


maybe you should know

by xephyr



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Brief Corsetry Kink, Developing Relationship, Feelings, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21813649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xephyr/pseuds/xephyr
Summary: Shaw has the night off and wouldn't you know it, Flynn's free until next week. In the end they both get more than they originally bargained for.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 9
Kudos: 92





	maybe you should know

**Author's Note:**

> rimming because like. well.

It’s not quite dark out when Flynn brings Shaw back with him to his humble cabin aboard the Middenwake. In some uncivilized parts of the world it might be considered uncouth to fuck where you work but he doesn’t care much for his actual inland dwelling and his rickety old bed frame has been complaining at him for so long that he doesn’t want to chance adding the weight of an additional person. Shaw’s never asked, so he’s never offered. Also, Shaw has him shoved up against the door by his lapels and was kissing the living daylights out of him ( _tides_ , where did he learn that thing with his _tongue_ ) so nothing else is really that important right now. He’s not even sure what he was thinking about.

Oh, and Shaw is positively frisky this evening. His deft hands are already divesting him of his coat and pulling his shirt out of his trousers and Flynn has to breathlessly laugh against his lips as a hand drags possessively up his chest. “Have you got somewhere to be, mate?”

Shaw’s hands falter at his belt for half a second and _oh no_ , that’s not what Flynn meant at _all_ , before he continues on his warpath at a slower and more deliberate pace. “No.” He presses another scorching kiss to his lips before he pulls back and his pupils are completely blown and hell, he’s stunning. “I have all night.”

In all honesty, it wouldn’t have deterred him at all if Shaw had somewhere to be within the next ten minutes. He’s managed before. Flynn lets his coat fall the rest of the way off of his arms and onto the ground before pulling off his gloves as well and throwing them on top of his coat so he can hopefully find them in the morning. “Where do you want me, then?”

In a neat little maneuver, Shaw spins their positions around pushes Flynn along backwards to his bunk. “Bed.”

Flynn is still working on getting his shirt over his head as Shaw places his ridiculous pauldrons on a nearby table with a thunk. When Flynn’s shirt has been tossed across the room and he can see Shaw again, a loud sound of protest escapes from him before he can stop it at the sight of him unlacing his armor. When Shaw whips his head back to look at him with as bewildered of an expression as he will allow, Flynn feels his face burning up in embarrassment.

“The, uh,” He gestures at Shaw’s corset because there’s really nothing else to call it, ”Think I can do the honors, there?”

Shaw regards him for a moment, looking down at himself like he’s forgotten that he’s even wearing it before before huffing out a laugh and crossing over to him and Flynn grabs at his belt to bring him in so that he’s straddled delightfully over his lap. “It’s all yours, captain.”

Flynn kisses him again as his hands slide shamelessly against the tooled leather and then up to toy with the laces that have woefully been partially loosened (his own fault for not speaking up earlier, really) and he takes his time with them. He experiments with variations of tightening and loosening the laces in turn to feel how the Spymaster’s body strains against it and while he doesn’t think it’s doing anything for Shaw it’s sure doing a hell of a lot for him and he’s grateful that Shaw is being such a good sport about it.

As Flynn nears the last row of grommets, Shaw pushes a very flustered Flynn away onto his back and moves to remove the rest of his uniform. “Get up by the pillows.” He instructs and Flynn goes easily, tossing off his boots and his trousers as he does.

He’s nice and settled against the nest of pillows and blankets of his messy and unmade bed by the time Shaw is sliding up against his body in only his shorts, his lean and toned muscles slotting against him like they were both made for this. His hand grazes across one of Flynn’s rather sizeable pecs and he tweaks a nipple between thumb and forefinger and Flynn’s head falls back against the pillow with an unabashed groan. Flynn realizes at once that he’s not going to be able to hold out for much longer if Shaw doesn’t just _fuck_ him soon so he lets Shaw know in the subletest way he can. “The oil’s in the drawer, if you want it.”

“I had another idea, actually.” At that, Flynn lifts his head up and looks at him inquisitively, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Oh?” Is all he can think to say.

Shaw hums in confirmation before sliding down and settling between his legs and trailing down his navel with his mouth as he goes. His dick twitches in anticipation as Shaw’s mouth hovers closer and closer to it and Flynn sighs contentedly when he kisses the top of his thigh. “When did you bathe last?”

Flynn huffs indignantly at that. “I don’t think I stink.” He sounds a little petulant because it feels like Shaw might leave him here like this so he tries again to assuage him of his concerns. “Anyway, it was maybe an hour before I got you. I was kind of hoping that we might…" He gestures between them helpfully. "Well, you know.”

Shaw just looks at him with an inscrutable expression with his head resting against his thigh. Flynn has absolutely no idea what it means.

“Thoroughly?”

Flynn narrows his eyes at him as he tries and fails to solve whatever puzzle Shaw is presenting him with and Shaw presses a hand against his thigh to encourage them to spread for him and-- oh. His mouth hangs open as his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline and he’s sure he’s a spectacular shade of red right about now.

“Uh.”

“It’s not a hard question.” The corner of Shaw’s lips tug upwards in a grin but Flynn detects a note of apprehension in it as if he’s worried that he’s crossed a line. Flynn commits himself to put a stop to that immediately.

“I can take another bath right now if you want.” Flynn threads a hand through Shaw’s hair and if he were the type to write books he might very well write at least three novels about how Shaw presses against it. Maybe four. At least four, probably. “It should be fine, but if you’re not sure--”

“I’ll take your word for it.” And then he bats Flynn’s hand away and shifts even lower, hoisting up one of Flynn’s thighs over his shoulder and pushing his other thigh as far out as it will allow. Shaw gives him one last meaningful look before he dips his head down below his sac and Flynn almost can’t look at him when he feels the first tentative press of lips against his hole and grabs a fistful of the sheets.

Shaw is methodical in this as he is in every aspect of his life and Flynn’s thighs nearly begin to tremble as Shaw eventually adds his tongue into the equation and laps at him. He’s gentle but insistent and it almost seems like he’s more than content just to _taste_ Flynn and it renders him, for once, speechless. It feels strange in the absolute best way something can feel strange.

“Breathe, Flynn,” Shaw tells him, his breath hot against him, and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Relax.”

Once he’s willed his body to relax, Shaw goes right back in and does absolutely holy things with his mouth and Flynn _does_ finally let his head fall back against the pillow. Shaw’s moustache tickles his sensitive skin as he works but it isn’t bad by any means, especially not when Shaw uses a hand to pry him apart even more to get closer, somehow, and get his tongue further inside him than he thought was possible. Just what he thinks he’s gotten used to it, one of Shaw’s fingers on his other hand comes up to join his mouth at the rim. Not yet pressing inside; just letting him be aware of their presence.

He whines at him with a litany of barely intelligible curses but Shaw gets it anyway and presses a finger up to the first knuckle as he licks alongside it obscenely. That was already enough to get him keening but then Shaw slides it in even further and crooks his finger in a way that drives him insane and Flynn’s hand is immediately on his now painfully hard cock, pumping it as fast as he physically can. If he doesn’t come now, he doesn’t even know what the consequences might be. He might die, for one. Azeroth may even cease to exist. The stakes are simply too high.

Shaw senses his desperation, maybe, as he adds another finger and then he screws his eyes shut and _does_ come, just like he was supposed to, and the world falls back into balance once again. Or, it tries to. It takes him a long time to come back down from that and for the haze to at least partly disperse from his mind. Once it does and he’s able to breathe again, he realizes he still feels Shaw’s tongue inside of him still licking every part of him he can reach in a very unhurried and lazy way.

It’s so fantastically good but his spent dick jumps in his hand almost painfully at the overstimulation and Flynn has to reluctantly pat a heavy hand on the Spymaster’s shoulder to wordlessly ask him to relent.

By the time he can even will the energy to look down at Shaw the other man’s head rests again his thigh once more, grinning like a man who knows exactly what he’s done and not realizing how gorgeous he looks like that. “I’m finding it difficult to tell if you enjoyed that or not.”

For once Flynn doesn’t have anything clever to say and simply urges him upwards and Shaw goes easily with the grace of a cat and settles down beside him. When Flynn pulls him up into a kiss, however, he turns his head at the last moment so his lips catch on his cheek instead. “I wouldn’t,” he warns, for all the good it will do.

Flynn’s hands situate themselves on the side of his face and hold him there as his thumbs stroke along his cheekbones reverently. He can’t help but laugh at the emotions that surge through him because he doesn’t know how else to react to them and brings him in close so their noses brush against one another. “If it’s good enough for you then it’s good enough for me.” Shaw lets him kiss him this time and gasps into his mouth when Flynn angles him and kisses him deeper than he was probably expecting, his hands curling up into fists against his chest but makes no move to push him away.

“Now what did I do to deserve that?” Flynn smiles against his lips after a long moment before pulling back. “I’d like to know for future reference, if possible.”

Shaw looks back at him with an unguarded smile and Flynn almost kisses him again just for that. After careful deliberation that only Shaw is privy to, he answers. “Nothing.”

Not for the first time, Flynn wonders what’s going through the Spymaster’s clever little brain as he regards him in silence. Is he similarly affected by this? Do his emotions threaten to spill over as fiercely as Flynn’s do until he can do nothing but let it happen? He feels like they’ve crossed some sort of threshold and now that they have, Flynn has no idea what to do. He’s never been on this side of things, before. If he’s being honest, it scares him.

He deals with it by snaking a hand between them and palming along Shaw’s probably aching erection, marveling at how his eyelids flutter at the sudden press of his hand. “We’re still not done here, I don’t think.”

“Mm.” Shaw says, closing his eyes as Flynn works him lazily. “I did say I had all night.”

Flynn grins at him ferally before shifting him onto his side and pressing into his back, ignoring Shaw’s half-hearted protest once he feels the come that had settled on Flynn’s stomach pressing into his back. Flynn shuts his eyes as he presses his nose against Shaw’s short cropped hair, inhaling his scent and fondly imagining the day he might finally have the courage to call him Mathias. “I doubt you’ll last that long, old man.”


End file.
